


Snowflake

by PetraPan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:45:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetraPan/pseuds/PetraPan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knew Sam like he knew his car and his guns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowflake

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Снежинка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/838860) by [chemerika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemerika/pseuds/chemerika)



> Done for the 30 Day Drabble challenge with the Prompt 'Snowflake'.

Dean knew Sam like he knew his car and his guns. With that kind of intimacy he could take his brother apart and put him back together again—better, shinier, more beautiful than before.

They were a loaded gun in novice hands, powder thirsty for a spark. It was sinful--unholy as the things they hunted--but Dean couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when he was filled to bursting, sheets that smelled like detergent and fabric softener clenched in his fists. Not when he was buried so deep he thought he’d died, Sam stinking of dirt and sweat and close-calls.

Their balance was precarious, their existence delicate. A door carelessly unlocked would be the trembling tectonic plates in the earthquake of discovery. For however violent they were with each other, the fragility of what they had was like a splinter in Dean’s palm, any pressure an immediate reminder of just how much he could lose.

It prompted gentleness: soft touches and quiet sighs, torturous and slow, deliciously agonizing. It prompted desperation: names grunted out over skin caught in teeth, possessive fingers dragging ankles closer. Breath was lost so much faster in an unfamiliar bed than on any salt-and-burn.

Dean suffocated in the heat they created back in their hotel room, clothes strung out on the floor, weapons sitting on the table, still smelling like gunfire and blood. He was burning from within, fingers leaving a trail of fire over the long, hard lines of Sam’s body.

Sam pressed bruises into Dean’s hips, turning him over and shoving his face down, his legs open. Sam’s mouth was hot and unforgiving. Dean pushed himself back on Sam’s tongue with shaking arms and thighs. Desperate for relief—for release—he begged and sobbed, mad with sensation.

Sam’s breath was wet, lips sloppy and loud on Dean’s feverish skin. With greedy eyes Sam watched his brother curl and arch, reaching his hand underneath to frantically pull. He rose up over Dean, latching his mouth onto the strong, salty-damp back of Dean’s neck, asking, teasing, _you want more? Need more?_ A wet fingertip pushed slow and steady into Dean. _Need this?_

Stars exploded behind Dean’s eyes. Curses flew, a supernova of need want yes _please_.

Sam shoved inside, shuddering against his brother, and in the inferno it was like Dean caught a snowflake on his tongue. A moment of blessed, cool relief, and he opened his mouth wider, craving more.


End file.
